


like the rain

by StormySeaWitch



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Heavily Implied Character Death, M/M, Minor season 3 spoilers, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 21:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormySeaWitch/pseuds/StormySeaWitch
Summary: I’ll fall like the rain so you can rise like the sun
Relationships: Gren/Soren, Soren/Gren, Sorgren - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	like the rain

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, someone makes content that you can’t ignore. 
> 
> aka @sorgrcn did an art so I spent 3 hours writing a fic to go with it. 
> 
> And making a playlist. 
> 
> Go big or go home I guess.

[ _ _ ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2AIFB5pe4Ho5lNbbwvgEn0?si=xlftoY9PSlerYgpauZT1lA) _ [Like the rain, I fall for you](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2AIFB5pe4Ho5lNbbwvgEn0?si=dxCD3WQJSYeWAzFREmha6g) _

__ [Art by Lo](https://www.instagram.com/p/B4de5IdAyJa/?igshid=5vknbggsre7j)   
  


#

Everything was wrong. 

There wasn’t a King, but the Crownguard stuck together out of habit. His horse pawed nervously at the ground, her ears flicking back and forth at the energy surrounding them. Hundreds and hundreds of horses; thousands of men, women and… yes, children. How they'd been allowed to tag along, he had no idea. Soren shuddered to think of their fate.

Five human kingdoms, side by side. Banners flying, swords gleaming, armour that had been dusted off for the first time in decades catching the light of the rising sun. 

He wanted to vomit. 

His father was gone. Not dead, no. But the man that had patiently explained the world to him, read to him at night, cared for him when their mother left… that Viren was long gone. 

His sister was also nowhere to be found. She’d run off with one of her crazy ideas, a wild look in her eye. Soren worried about her, of course he did, but more so that she would follow the same fate as Viren. Sucked in by dark magic, corrupted. Destroyed from the inside out until none of his fun loving baby sister was left. 

His breath caught in his throat. 

‘Sir?’ 

He spun in the saddle, hoping that he didn’t look as vulnerable as he felt. ‘Yes?’

‘We have no… uh. King. Leader.’ 

What a wonderful thing for Lt. Granby to point out, Soren thought bitterly. ‘I know, Granby.’ 

‘Will Katolis follow one of the other kingdoms?’ Granby asked, almost like he was afraid of the answer. 

It would make them look weak. 

Hell, they were weak. The nation was in shambles. The crest on his back, emblazoned boldly on the front of his armour - it meant everything to him. Pride bubbled up his throat in the form of a growl. 

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Katolis will stand beside the other kingdoms as  _ equals _ .’ 

Granby was sufficiently silenced by the tone of Soren’s voice, but the blonde could sense doubt in the group. Tapping his heels into his horses side, he spun around to face his men. 

‘Come,’ he said, an edge of defeat creeping into his voice. ‘Granby’s right. We need someone to lead. Even if just a figurehead, for now.’ 

‘You won’t do it?’ one of the younger members asked from the back, her helmet a little too big. 

Soren snorted. ‘My family is most of the reason we’re in this mess. I doubt anyone of any military standing would trust me.’ 

The Crownguard exchanged glances with each other; they were good, loyal soldiers and they had stayed by Soren even after the drama in the throne room. 

‘We’re with you sir,’ Granby said quietly, lifting his chin as if to dare Soren to argue with him. 

A tiny smile tugged at his lips and fondness bloomed in his chest. Without a word he spun his horse around and the dejected Crownguard picked their way through the crowds in search of… someone. 

All around them people prepared themselves. They practiced clumsy swordwork or lined up bandages and painkillers. Many cried, or prayed. The younger ones looked nervous. Most of them looked inexperienced, and Soren realised with growing horror that many of them wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. 

‘Sir!’ 

Soren whipped his head to see what his lieutenant was pointing at and hope flared in his chest. 

‘Stay here,’ he ordered, urging his horse into a trot. He worked his way through a group of soldiers in a familiar black armour until he was within shouting distance. ‘Gren!’ 

The commander turned curiously, brows knitting together as the Crownguard approached. 

‘Captain,’ he greeted stiffly. Behind him, General Amaya sat tall on her massive bay stallion, face stoic. 

‘Katolis has no regent,’ Soren blurted. ‘We’re going into a war to die and we have no leader and no direction.’ 

Gren raised an eyebrow. ‘Where’s Viren?’ 

‘Gone,’ Soren breathed. A pang of disappointment raced through him. ‘The dark magic has corrupted him. He’s… he can’t help. King Ezran is gone. There’s no one.’ 

Gren turned away from Soren to sign to Amaya. He hid his hands, even though Soren had no idea what the signals meant. 

After a moment, the two of them slid from their mounts with a clink of armour, and Soren scrabbled to do the same. 

‘General Amaya wants to know what your proposal is,’ Gren translated. 

‘She has to stand in as acting regent,’ Soren said quickly. ‘The other Generals and military officials respect her, she has the experience and the good sense to keep us alive.’ 

Gren translated as he spoke, and Amaya was quick to respond. Her mouth was set in a tight line that spoke volumes to how little her opinion of him was. 

‘And what of the Crownguard?’ Gren asked, on Amaya’s behalf. 

‘We will protect you, the other generals, anything you need us to do,’ Soren promised. He slipped his sword from its scabbard and held it out towards her. ‘I’ve made mistakes. My family has made mistakes. If I can do anything to keep the kingdom safe I will it.’ 

Amaya took the sword by the hilt and admired the blade. She handed it back to him and signed something to Gren. He replied quickly. 

Soren looked away - it felt like he was intruding on their private conversation even though he didn’t understand. 

‘Is there a war room?’ Gren asked suddenly, and Soren felt a resurgence of hope. 

‘There’s a tent on the top of the hill,’ he breathed, fighting a grin. ‘Big banners, can’t miss it. All the other monarchs are lined up together.’ 

Gren relayed the message, and Amaya replied quickly. 

‘Get the Crownguard together and meet us at the tent. We don’t have much time.’ 

The thundering of hooves as the Crownguard moved through crowds filled Soren with a renewed sense of purpose. He felt, for the first time all day, that they had a chance. The tents were lined up well out of the way of any oncoming Xadian forces, flying the banners of the pentarchy and protected from all sides by guards. 

Soren directed his team to dismount and wait alongside the other guards of the Katolis tent, then made for the entrance. 

Then he hesitated. 

What if he wasn’t welcome? Anxiety gripped his heart. 

‘It may not be a proper doorway, Soren, but it’s still impolite to lurk,’ came Gren’s teasing voice from inside. 

‘Sorry,’ he replied, anxiety temporarily quashed. ‘The Crownguard and myself are here as requested.’ 

‘Good,’ Amaya said, translated by Gren. She was leaning over a map that marked the five armies; the Katolis sector had a number of smaller banners to indicate where their generals were positioned. ‘I’ve had the Crowmaster send birds to each general to let them know of the situation. Most have replied with their positions, numbers and support of my taking the place as acting regent.’ 

Soren nodded along, keeping his eyes on the map. 

‘The High Council has also approved and enacted the necessary emergency processes. Honestly, I didn’t pay a lot of attention.’ 

The blonde looked up to see the amusement in Gren’s voice mirrored in Amaya’s expression. 

‘What do you need us to do?’ he asked, crossing his arms. 

‘I’m dividing the Crownguard up to assist the generals and cover gaps in the line. People look towards you for guidance and leadership,’ Amaya explained. 

‘Of course. Where do you want me?’ Soren continued. 

‘Right here,’ Amaya said. 

‘In the tent?’ the blonde asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

Gren sighed as she replied, but translated anyway. ‘Does “here” mean something else in the castle? Of course in the tent.’ 

‘B-but-’ He ran a hand through his hair to expel some of his frustrations. ‘I can’t just  _ sit here  _ while people fight.’ 

‘Do you think Commander Gren and I don’t feel the same way?’ Amaya’s eyes were blazing. ‘You are not the only one who has lost their whole family, Captain. You’re too valuable for us to just throw you out there to die.’ 

Soren scowled at them both, the General and the Commander. ‘With all due respect,’ he began, not even a sliver of respect in his tone. ‘It’s my job to protect the crown and the kingdom and I did a piss-poor job protecting the crown so at least let me fight for the kingdom.’ 

Gren didn’t even need to translate the resounding ‘no’ that came from Amaya; he could read it on her face. 

Bitterness rose like bile and he swallowed a number of rude insults. ‘I can’t… lead, or strategise. All I can do is fight,’ he ground out, trying to keep his voice level. ‘Let me join your squad from the Breach. They’ll keep an eye on me, make sure I don’t do anything stupid.’ 

The redhead didn’t sign anything, even when Amaya questioned him. ‘Do you think we don’t  _ trust you _ ?’ he asked, incredulous. 

‘Why would you? My family is the reason we’re in this situation,’ Soren grumbled. 

‘You  _ idiot _ ,’ Gren snapped. ‘You’re here because you’re a leader and you have good ideas. Your squad trusts you. You knew Katolis needed direction so you fixed the problem. We need you.’ 

‘I need to fight,’ he replied simply, ignoring the looks from other soldiers, members of the High Council and the Crowmaster. ‘The only way you’ll stop me from fighting is if you arrest me for treason.’ 

Gren stared at him for a moment then signed quickly to Amaya. 

They went back and forth for a while before Gren said anything. 

‘You’re to take control of the squad from the Breach,’ he said stiffly, not meeting Soren’s eye. ‘And if you die then we’re feeding your body to the crows.’ 

Soren snickered before he could stop himself. ‘Thank you,’ he said sincerely. 

Amaya just rolled her eyes and pointed at parts of the map. Together, they marked out their plan while scribes took notes. After forty-five minutes of intense planning, Soren and Gren left the tent, a flurry of crows carrying important messages following them out. 

Soren directed each member of the Crownguard to their positions, clasping hands with each one before they left, words of good luck on his lips and an unspoken goodbye in his throat, just in case. When it was only himself, Gren and the young lieutenant Williamson, they mounted their steeds and made their way to the Breach battalion. 

They moved slowly, following invisible paths through the groups of people. Williamson went on ahead with a note for Lt Fen, letting him know of the plan and the change in leadership. Gren and Soren moved slower, trying to ignore the sense of impending dread. 

‘I wanted to apologise,’ Soren said after a while. 

‘To me? What for?’

‘I threw you in a dungeon.’ 

‘Oh, that.’ 

He’d practiced the apology a number of times in his head, but it always involved Gren yelling at him, or even worse; ignoring him entirely. 

‘I was… blinded.’ 

‘I never really blamed  _ you,  _ though,’ Gren said quietly, looking over at Soren with something akin to pity in his eyes. ‘I mean, it’s pretty obvious that you were just doing what your dad told you to.’ 

‘That doesn’t make it right,’ Soren replied. ‘You don’t just do what people tell you to because they’re your family. Look where it got us.’ He gestured wildly out to the armies surrounding them. 

‘I forgave you before they even let me out of the manacles,’ Gren said with a shrug. ‘And Katolis will survive this war. Maybe not totally intact, but… they won’t wipe us out. Who knows, this might be the catalyst we need to start proper peace negotiations?’ 

He sounded so hopeful, Soren didn’t have it in him to voice his doubts. 

‘It’s a pity that we’ve never worked close, you know,’ Gren continued, re-wrapping his reigns around his hands. ‘I think we’d have been good friends.’ 

Soren laughed. ‘I always wanted to be stationed on the Breach,’ he confessed. ‘On the front lines.’ 

‘How’d you end up in the Crownguard then?’ 

‘My dad,’ the blonde said with a sigh. ‘He pulled strings; told me I could start in a good position in the Crownguard, leader of my own small squad. I don’t think he wanted me to leave him.’

‘Now you lead them all,’ Gren pointed out. 

‘Yeah, well… most people don’t stay in the guard. It’s boring. How often is the monarch actually in any danger?’ Soren scratched the back of his neck. ‘They promoted me because they knew I wouldn’t leave, and they needed some consistency.’ 

‘Well that’s unfair.’ 

Soren shot him a pained smile. ‘Not all bad I guess. But I agree. I think we could have been friends.’ 

‘When this is all over you should transfer,’ Gren suggested. ‘I doubt Amaya would let you rot away in the castle after the crap you pulled with her today.’ 

‘What if she kills me in my sleep?’ 

‘She’s merciful, it would be a quick and painless death.’ 

Soren chuckled. 

The familiar silver and black armour of the Breach soldiers came into sight; Soren could see tiny Lt Williamson with Lt Fen on the top of a crest. They sped up their pace and dismounted immediately. 

Gren explained extra details to Fen and completed the handover smoothly. He stood back while Soren, flanked by Williamson and Fen, addressed his new battalion. They listened to him with perfect attention, not a glare or a whisper amongst them. They trusted Amaya, and Gren, he realised. They had faith in their leaders, who had faith in him. 

‘I can’t… promise that things will turn out okay,’ he said awkwardly, toying with the clasp of his cape. ‘But behind us, behind all the generals and their battalions… it’s just civilians. Ordinary people who picked up a sword or an axe, or medical supplies, and decided to help. They don’t have shiny armour or training. And we can’t let the lines break because then all those people will die.’ 

The group shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his words settling like a lead ball in their stomachs. 

‘I’ll do my best to direct you, and we’ll have General Amaya and Commander Gren in the war tent making sure that we stay together as a kingdom, but most likely some of us won’t go home. So thank you for volunteering your swords and your lives.’ 

The speech left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, even after an encouraging smile from Williamson and a pat on the shoulder from Gren. 

‘I need to get back,’ the redhead told him, patting the neck of his horse. 

‘We’ve got it under control,’ Soren replied, offering his hand. 

Gren ignored it and just gave Soren an awkward hug; their armour crunched together but Soren didn’t mind. 

‘Don’t die,’ Gren ordered. ‘I mean it.’ 

‘I’ll do my best,’ Soren promised, but Gren shook his head. 

‘Do better than your best,’ he said. ‘Do not die.’ 

With that, Gren swung into the saddle with practiced ease and clicked his tongue. Soren watched the commander until he disappeared into the army. He wondered if he would ever see him again. 

‘What do we do now?’ Williamson asked. 

‘Wait, I guess,’ Soren told her. ‘We’re not making the first move, so… we wait for them.’ 

#

It took hours for Xadia to make the first move, and even then it happened miles and miles away from where Soren picked at the stitching of his gauntlets. 

A scream from someone in the crowd made him leap to his feet, only to see a fireball larger than the Katolis castle light up the early evening. A squadron of dragons flew low over them all, eliciting screams and cries from all the armies. Soren felt his stomach drop and his courage evaporate. 

Seconds later a huge flock of crows with red ribbons tied around their legs darted overhead; the signal that they should attack. 

Soren remembered mounting his horse and drawing his sword. 

He remembered the fury of the Breach battalion behind him. 

He remembered his sword cutting through enemies like a hot knife through butter; he remembered not feeling anything, like his mind had retreated inside itself to spare him the realisation of what he was doing. 

The scream of his horse as she took a lance to the chest, her laboured breathing as she landed heavily on her side, nearly crushing him in the process. 

Williamson pulling him free, a smear of blood on her cheek from her obviously broken nose. 

More dragons. Fire. Electricity. Magic swirling around him in a way that made him feel like they were up against nature itself. Enemies that he couldn’t see. Allies cut down all around him. 

So many tears. 

So many bodies. 

Enemies with wings and horns and creatures aiding them that he couldn’t have dreamed up in his most drunken state. 

Slash. Stab. Parry. 

Don’t sweep the leg; the enemy had more than two and it didn’t ever work anyway. 

Stab. Parry. Slash. 

Thrust. Chop. 

Parry. Parry. Block. 

Thunder. 

Not dragon thunder - real thunder. Heavy black clouds rolled in, making it difficult to tell who was on their side and who should be at the other end of his blade. 

‘Keep going Soren,’ said a voice; one he recognised but couldn’t put a face or a name to. Breach armour. 

He did as he was told and cut down two more foes before taking a stray slice to the thigh from one of the elves deadly curved blades. 

It took him a moment to realise the screaming was coming from him, but it didn’t stop him. He didn’t have time for pain; he had to fight. 

His leg collapsed under him and he landed hard in the mud. 

Mud?

Where had the mud come from?

Soren looked up at the sky only to realise the heavens had opened up and rain was pelting down on him. 

A few moments ticked by until he realised that he wasn’t getting up. He settled in the mud against something sturdy and stretched his aching leg out. It screamed in protest, so he kept it as still as he could. 

No one would know who retreated first, both sides would later claim the other did. Soren didn’t care. He cared about the pain in his leg, the fact that he was so lightheaded he worried he would throw up. 

‘Soren?’

He cracked open an eye to see Gren’s concerned face. 

‘Oh jesus, Soren… come on buddy, wake up.’ 

Gren was tapping his face. How rude. He had just fought in a war and Gren thought it was appropriate to  _ smack him? _

‘Stop,’ he grumbled, moving his head to one side. 

The rain was still pelting down, making satisfying noises as each drop collided with his armour. 

‘Oh shit, Soren your leg is a mess,’ Gren fussed, picking at the fabric of Soren’s pants, soaked with blood and rain and mud. 

‘It’s a scratch,’ he said with a heavy breath. ‘I’ll be okay I just need a nap.’ 

‘It’s not a scratch. It’s cut to the bone,’ Gren snapped. ‘You’ve lost so much blood.’ 

Soren’s eyes fluttered closed while the redhead examined the wound. 

_ Plat  _ went the rain.  _ Plat, plat, plat.  _

Thunder rumbled overhead. 

When Soren was younger he’d been afraid of thunderstorms. Whenever the sky crackled with lightning or thunder crashed, one of his parents would stay with him. His dad would tell him stories of the sky dragons and their mighty battles, how they clashed so hard it shook the land and made the rain. 

His mother would hold him tight and sing soothing lullabies to him. 

_ ‘I hate the rain, _ ’ he would say, and she would just rub his back.

‘ _ We need the rain, Soren, _ ’ she would reply. ‘ _ The rain brings life _ .’ 

‘Soren I don’t know what to do,’ Gren said, breaking him from his thoughts. 

‘Don’t need to do anything,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s raining.’ 

‘Rain won’t fix your leg, Soren. It’s… basically hanging on by the fabric of your pants,’ Gren told him, voice quivering. The redhead reached out a cool hand to push Soren’s hair out of his face. ‘You’re gonna die.’ 

Dying had never been high on his list of things to do, but he wasn’t surprised. He’d gone into the battle with the expectation that it was at least a possibility, and he’d made peace with it. 

‘I’ll be okay,’ he assured Gren. ‘I’ll see my family.’ 

‘What can I do?’ Gren asked, panic in his voice. ‘There has to be something I can do.’ 

Soren eyed the commander curiously. He couldn’t see him very well; blood dripped into one of his eyes from a gash in his eyebrow, and the rain made everything blurry, but Gren looked helpless and scared. He held out an arm. 

Gently, so as not to hurt him, Gren settled into Soren’s side and just let the blonde hold him. 

‘Thought you said we were gonna be friends,’ he choked, and Soren laughed. 

‘We’re friends. People who aren’t friends don’t lay in the mud and rain and hug each other.’ 

A tight sensation around his torso told him that Gren was hugging him back. The commander’s shoulders shook with barely contained sobs, and Soren felt his heart break. 

‘It’s okay,’ he whispered, closing his eyes and rubbing tiny circles on Gren’s back. ‘I’m here, Gren.’

‘We’re not going to feed you to the crows,’ Gren promised, his face buried in Soren’s shoulder. 

‘I know.’ 

‘We didn’t even win,’ Gren choked. ‘No one did. So many people just  _ died,  _ for  _ nothing _ .’ 

Soren rested his cheek on the top of Gren’s head, ignoring the way the strawberry locks plastered to his skin. ‘Didn’t die for nothing,’ he mumbled. ‘Like you said. Maybe we can talk about peace now… so this doesn’t happen again.’ 

‘You really think that?’ Gren asked, muffled by Soren’s shoulder. 

‘Course. You said it.’ 

The redhead snorted. ‘That doesn’t mean it’s true.’

‘Rain brings life,’ Soren told him. ‘Washes away the blood. New start. New life. Get to begin again.’ 

Gren was silent for a moment or two, the only sounds the  _ plat plat plat  _ of the rain and the shaky breaths that rattled in Soren’s chest. 

‘I hope you’re right,’ Gren said quietly. 

‘Not me, you,’ Soren reminded him. ‘I’m just a soldier.’ 

‘You’re my friend.’

‘That too,’ he smiled, closing his eyes. 

  
  


_ I’ll fall like the rain so you can rise like the sun... _

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated since I’m trying improve my work!


End file.
